Home
by mandapaaanduh
Summary: DH SPOILERS I never thought I'd be returning to the Dursley's, to a place where no one ever loved me. Why return to a house when I could just go home with the ones I love...? But someone did love you here, Harry, if only just a little...


**WARNINGS**: _Deathly Hallows_ Spoilers

**Disclaimer**: We all know I don't own _**Harry Potter**_, J.K. Rowling does, so we'll just leave it at that. I do not get paid for the publication, so to speak, of this fanfiction... Though, I really wish I did... -stares at empty wallet-

This is **NOT** Harry**X**Dudley, before you ask. -shudder- This is basically saying that, through all of Harry's years living in the Dursley's house there were _some_ kind things that Dudley had done for him. I mean, duh, Dudley has always been under the influence of his parents. (Yes, I'm a "good boy, Dudley" supporter. XD) It's a brother thing.

Also, I wanted to show that Harry had some sort of relationship with everyone in the book (though, I don't point them all out) like with Malfoy. There wasn't friendship, but a rivalry works just the same.

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**HOME**

I visited the Dursley's today. Well, not Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley themselves. Just the house. Hermione had suggested that I recover the rest of my belongings and move them over to number twelve Grimmlaud Place. Although, I told her that the only things I had left were Dudley's old clothes, a bed, some posters and some gags Fred and George had given me. But... She made a lot of sense when she said to at least recover Fred and George's presents. In memory of Fred, of course.

I never thought I'd come back to Privet Drive after so long. It had been almost two years since the last time I laid eyes on this place, a year since the fall of Voldemort. Hogwarts was still in shambles and Grimmlaud Place had to be reconstructed just a bit. Yaxley had done a number on it when he finally got in. However, Kreacher assures me nothing was stolen and would never be stolen so long as he was guarding the house. I'll take my house elf's word for it.

The sun was peeking just over the horizon now, evening fast approaching with its distant hues of blue and black. It surprised me how much had changed. After the attack from Voldemort the night I had planned to leave this place forever, I suppose many of the Dursley's old neighbors moved away. I mean, who was accustomed to over two dozen people zooming around in the air in the middle of the night? Well, who of muggle descent, anyway.

Hermione, Ron and I were kind of frightened that we wouldn't be able to complete our last year at Hogwarts, but Professor McGonogall-- who was now headmistress --had told us that we could, once the school was pulled out of its current state of destruction. Everyone willing to help was already at the school anyhow-- building up walls, re-casting protection spells --including many of our parents and even some Slytherin dwellers. (Most on account of some perverse punishment, like the Malfoys.) Even Hermione's parents were there, helping in whichever way a muggle could. We'd retrieved the poor pair from Australia and Hermione almost hadn't recognized them, they had gotten so many shades darker. It was quite entertaining.

"Harry?" Ahh, and Ginny. She was here too, along with Ron, Hermione and George, who was waiting patiently in the car (the "magical muggle mobile," as he often called it) with a Quidditch magazine flopped over his head. Ron wasn't exactly sure whether he was asleep or not and, quite frankly, neither was I.

"Harry?" It was Ginny again. I hadn't realized she was still talking. Ron and Hermione had gone ahead up the driveway, taking in what was once the Dursley's house. This wasn't my home. A home is a place where you can go and family will welcome you with open arms and hospitality. No one loved me here and I was surprised my blood protection hadn't worn off the moment I was aware of it because I never called this place home. I noticed the floor was covered in dust as we walked inside, Ron's and Hermione's footprints etched in the thin layer. They had gone straight to the backdoor, according to the path their footprints became.

"Harry Potter!" Ginny's voice startled me and I flinched at the tone. Was she angry because I wasn't listening... Again? "Now, if you're listening... I was trying to ask who this boy was." She was pointing at a picture of Dudley hanging on the wall, motionless and lifeless, not like the many paintings in Hogwarts or even her own at the Burrow. I sighed, staring up at the many pictures of my enormous cousin.

"That," I started vaguely, pointing toward one particular photograph placed high above the mantle of the fireplace, "Is my cousin Dudley. He was rather fat when that picture was taken..." Though I wished no good luck to the walking garbage disposal, I felt the need to add, "Dudley wasn't that way when he left, though. He was taller than me, about a head taller maybe, and all that fat turned into muscle... That he still used to lock me in the broom cupboard beneath the stairs." I remembered the last time he had done that. It was a few weeks before their evacuation. It was very uncomfortable, considering I could never fit in it properly to begin with, let alone now.

"He locked you in a broom cupboard?" Ginny asked me, disbelievingly as she grasped my hand in hers and led me toward the stairs. "In this thing?" She looked inside, strawberry hair disappearing into the cupboard and gasped. "This is so tiny, Harry! How on Earth did you fit?"

"I did when I was ten." I answered automatically, wondering whether this whole 'walk down memory lane' business was relevant to the fact that I was only here to gather my remaining belongings.

"When you were te-- Harry, he locked you in here when you were ten?" She questioned once more, silky hair swinging over her shoulder as she pulled her head out to look at me with big, chocolate brown eyes.

"No..." Ginny looked at me curiously, glancing back into the cupboard and pulling out one of my old toy soldiers which was also covered in a fine coating of black soot and ash from beneath the stairs. I took it from her hand and turned it over in my fingers. This was one of the only things Dudley had given me willingly. "I used to sleep in here." Again, she gasped at the size and the idea that yes, Harry Potter used to sleep in a broom cupboard under the stairs.

"That's horrible." She breathed, grabbing my elbow. I was flattered at her concern and it was nice to have someone understand for once in my life, not that Ron and Hermione didn't, but still. Someone just a bit closer... The toy soldier fit in the palm of my hand, covered by the sheer size of my palm compared to all those years ago. I looked it over as she dragged me up the stairs to where the bedrooms are and I shook my head, pocketing the small figurine.

At the top of the stairs were more pictures of Dudley, still motionless and dead. The door to my room was splintered open, thrown off its hinges and laying flat on the floor. The lamp that once stood on the bedside table was overturned and the sheets of my bed were torn straight through. A pang of guilt shot through my chest as I gazed at the stand that always used to hold Hedwig's cage. I missed her...

Ginny pulled me over the threshold and looked around my room in bemusement, taking in the Quidditch posters plastered on to the wall, the many pictures beside it of Ron, Hermione and I, Fred and George, one Colin-- rest his soul --had taken of me and Malfoy during a Quidditch game second year and one of Ginny and I that Colin had taken sixth year for us, before what happened with Dumbledore and the Horcruxes, before everything. Ginny smiled at the pictures, letting go of my hand to go run freckled, nimble fingers over the photographs so full of life and happiness compared to the ones just down the hall.

"I remember this photo..." She whispered to herself, prying it off the wall and holding it close. Her other hand ran over the faces of her elder brothers, Fred's and George's and she pulled that one off the wall as well, looking over at me for permission. I nodded and she smiled sweetly, grabbing the rest from their perch and climbing off of my bed, walking back over to me. She held out the pictures to me, silently asking me to hold them for her while she wondered back down the hall. I ushered her past Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's room; no one should have to endure that punishment, with their lacy, floral print covers and off-white walls, cheap, chipping gold bed frame and all that.

Aside from the bathroom, which smelled horribly, by the way, the only room left was Dudley's. Ginny insisted on checking it out, only to see if she could identify what kind of person my cousin was other than the atrocious bully I made him sound to be. I myself didn't quite remember what Dudley's room was like, but as the sun finally set and his room grew dark, I knew I never would. None of the lights worked-- months of not paying any sort of bill, electric or otherwise resulting in no light at all --so I led Ginny around by the hand. The glow of the blush on her cheeks was evident, even beyond the looming dark. She pulled out her wand and whispered, "_Lumos_!" and soon, I could nearly see where I was going. Nearly. Stubbing my toe on something metallic and hard, I cursed my lop-sided glasses. Why could I never remember that spell Hermione had taught me...

"He worked out, Harry." She said incredulously, as if I didn't know. She ran bony fingers over the steel dumbbell beside Dudley's bed. His room was rather plain, no posters on the walls, plain white sheets and there were barely any pictures. One picture in particular, however, caught my eye.

"What is it, Harry?" Ginny followed me over to the night stand where I picked up one of the picture frames settled there. She glanced over my shoulder, creeping a hand beneath my arm to wipe the dust away from the glass. After getting a good look at the photo she laughed and pointed to a scrawny looking boy. The rueful grin that besieged my face refused to be wiped away. "Why, Harry, that's you!" Ginny laughed, hugging me from behind.

"Yea, it is..." It was Dudley and I in the picture. We were in the sitting room just in front of the fireplace. The fire was going strong in the hearth and Aunt Petunia was hurriedly trying to rush me out of the picture. Dudley was grabbing onto my collar, though, keeping me in just long enough for the camera to snap. Again, the picture did not move. I remembered that day well. I just thought that Aunt Petunia had burned every copy of this picture. Why Dudley would have one-- and in a frame, nonetheless --was beyond me. I looked closely, green eyes roaming over the black and white and I saw dark lines that came from behind the photo. Ginny watched as I tore the picture out of the frame and turned it over to find words, written in Dudley's atrocious handwriting.

"_**This was bloody brilliant of me! I never was able to get a picture of Harry. Too bad Mum burned the rest.**_" There was a little face after that, possibly a rabid interpretation of Aunt Petunia, if I looked hard enough. The photo was dated merely days after those Dementors had attacked the two of us, as well.

"That _was_ brilliant..." She laughed and gestured toward Aunt Petunia, "That lady looks so stringy..." Ginny told me, trailing off as if unable to continue that thought.

I looked over the picture again and chuckled, despite myself. When I placed the picture back onto the bedside table, Ginny grabbed at it and placed it with the rest of the others.

"You don't leave memories behind, Harry." She told me quietly and I turned, wrapped my arms around her waist and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. I hesitated for a second before bending my head low to meet hers. I kissed her forehead first, then her nose which crinkled up as she laughed before I claimed her soft lips with my own. I twirled a finger into her waist length red hair and held her close. Ron's cry of, "Bloody Hell, Hermione, don't scare me like that!" fell on our deaf ears because I only had senses for the angel in front of me, the picture of Dudley and I along with the one of Ron, Hermione and I, Fred and George, Malfoy as well as Ginny flat between us as her hands held them close to her chest.

"I think I'm done gathering all the memories I need from this place." I whispered to her when I released her from my hold, just my hand placed in the small of her back while leading her out the door. I closed it behind me, leaving it open only slightly. Whether the Dursleys returned or not, I would never know...

"There you two are." Ron greeted us at the bottom of the steps, a bottle of water in one hand and a freshly bought box of cookies in the other. "Got 'em for George, street vendor down the road." He explained, rattling the box a little. Hermione was at the door, a bag that was once empty now full with memories that I had wished to keep from every place I'd ever been on her back. The honking of the car outside told us George was wide awake, ready to go.

I was the last to leave, Ginny's fingers intertwined with mine. I looked around the foyer one more time. It was now too dark to see a thing, but I had memorized everything. My hand on the door, I closed it behind me with a small click, fingers lingering on the bronze sphere before letting go at George's continuing honks.

"We're coming, George!" Ginny reassured with a giggle and wave of her other hand. She pulled me down the walkway and over to the other side of the road where George was grinning like a maniac from the driver's side window.

"Those two were snogging up there, weren't they?" George smirked with a mischievous wiggle of his eyebrows. Ginny blushed and I ignored him altogether with another rueful smile. "Thought so." He finished with a smug nod.

Ginny and I climbed into the back with Hermione who was being almost as playful as a Cornish Pixie, without the terror as she poked Ron with a little laugh from behind. Ginny watched the two in amusement while I stared out the window and as the Dursley's house was suddenly disappearing from view I realized that there was someone there who made my stay at least a little welcome. I went back to that moment before we had parted for good, when Dudley had told me thank you... For saving him from those Dementors. When he had asked whether I was coming with them. Yea, there was always someone there and now, I have someone here with me.

Looking from Ginny to the house slowly sliding away, I only thought one thing.

_I never thought I'd ever leave home... _

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I rather like how this came out. I like it very much. I hope you understood what I was getting at and if you didn't feel free to ask questions. I hope you review.

It has been pointed out the Ginny says Harry's name a lot. Now, I'd like to point out that-- **I JUST FLIPPIN' NOTICED THAT**! XD

**Flames are welcomed, though not encouraged.**

**_Hope you enjoyed it!_**

_mandaxface_


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